


Day Fourteen: Annie & Finnick

by claryherondale



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 70th Hunger Games, Beaches, District 4, F/M, Fluff, Love, Ocean, One Shot, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8861089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryherondale/pseuds/claryherondale
Summary: Day 14 of My 31 Favorite ShipsAfter President Snow threatens to rig the Reaping so that Annie will be chosen for the 70th Hunger Games, she sits with Finnick on the beach where they first kissed when they were thirteen.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@thepukwudgies on instagram](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40thepukwudgies+on+instagram).



> Again, sorry this is late. This is just a little bit of Odesta fluff. This actually makes me want to write a whole story about Annie's experience in the 70th Hunger Games. We'll see. Maybe in the new year.

I stare at the waves reaching up to me like the claws of the animals I know I am soon going to have to face. They cascade onto the sand, which is thoroughly soaked a few feet away from me. I can’t help but to wish that the tide would come closer and whisk me away, take me into its arms, and let me drown. The salt water would coat my lungs and let me swim inside my own body. It would be painful, certainly, but there’s something beautiful about dying with what you love. 

Instead, I’m going to die on live television, broadcast to everyone—including my Finnick. I know that I’m not going to survive the Games. I’m going to be cast out as soon as the Reaping shows my face to the other tributes and the sponsors in the Capitol. 

Part of me craves suicide. It yearns for that final moment of release, when my body has accepted the fact that I’m drowning and gives me a sensation of euphoria like no other. I can’t do that, though. Not to my family. Not to Finnick. They wouldn’t understand why I did it. No one around me knows that the Reaping is going to be rigged and that I will be selected as the female from District 4.

The only people who are aware are the ones who are orchestrating it—President Snow and his advisors. They had been trying to find a way to coerce Finnick into whoring himself out for the Capitol, because he’s the most attractive, youthful victor alive right now. And in their extensive research and blunt spying, they found me. They found the girl that Finnick loves. So, three days ago, President Snow showed up in my house when no one else was home. He appeared and disappeared just as stealthily and invisibly as he was able to discover me.

And he said, “Get Finnick to give into what we want from him, or you’re the next female tribute from District Four.”

“No,” I said resolutely, refusing the president to his face.

It was easy after watching the country that he governs put Finnick up against twenty three other children. After watching him nearly die. We were only fourteen then, but I loved him. I love him still.

“Then you’ve sealed your fate.”

With that, he left.

I’m not ignorant enough to believe that will be the end of it, but I’m doing all I can to make sure Finnick won’t have to be forced into prostitution because of his status as a victor. I won’t tell him what I know is going to happen at the Reaping in a couple of days. I’m just going to try to give him the best few days left with me that I can. 

I can hear footsteps in the sand behind me, and I look up in time to see Finnick approaching. He sits beside me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I rest against his lean, muscular body. I genuinely believe that these moments with him are the last time I will ever feel safe. And he’ll know that, when the day that I’m chosen comes. Because he’s experienced it himself.

“Are you alright, Annie?” Finnick asks me.

I glance up at him, his bronze hair and sea-green eyes. The features of his face are sharp and chiseled; I’ve memorized every single detail during our years together. I’ve kissed those lips more times than I can count—I’ve felt the strength of his abdomen, and his arms as he’s held me. I’ve known him pretty much all of my life, and we grew inseparable in school. Especially since he returned from his Hunger Games and moved into the Victor’s Village, he hasn’t been able to trust many people. And yet, he trusts me. The person who must lie by omission to him now to save him from a life that will drive him mad. I know he would do it for me. He would choose me being alive over his own safety. He would choose himself going crazy from the abuse before he would give me over to the Capitol and allow them to drive me into insanity in an arena.

I try to give him my most convincing smile. “I’m just fine.”

He takes a lock of my red hair between his tan fingers. His skin is like gold against my ringlets—we’re a sunset when we collide. Finnick leans in and kisses me gently. He tastes of salt water, and I know, in this moment, that this is what I will miss most while I’m in the Games. Because the feeling of his arms and the flavor of his lips are home to me.

He is home to me.

“I love you,” whispers Finnick.

“I love you, too,” I tell him. “I always will.”

“Annie, are you sure you’re alright?” He can read me like the stories in each line of a seashell, unfortunately. “Are you worried about the Reaping?”

And there it is—the words he hasn’t spoken to me since he was chosen, despite the fact that there have been Reapings since. All because he cares more about protecting me and my emotions than he does about protecting him and his own.

The lies just slip off my tongue like liquid. “No, I’m not. I haven’t put in for tesserae since you won and have so generously shared with me your rewards. There’s not much chance that it’ll be me.”

“It won’t be,” says Finnick, and I know that he believes it.

It just serves to make me feel guiltier. But I’m resolute. I am doing this for the right reasons. I’m not doing it to deceive him or out of some sort of false hope that I can win the Hunger Games. I only want to keep him from destroying himself for my sake.

I clear my throat. “I have something for you. I know you’ll have to go back into the Capitol—maybe not this year, but eventually, to be a mentor. And I want you to have a piece of me with you any time you have to face any of those citizens. To remind you that not all of Panem is bad. To remind you of home.”

I take the necklace out of my pocket and hand it to him. A shell is braided onto blue weaving, handmade but crafted with care and slow attentiveness.

“I found the shell on this beach, the beach where we first kissed when we were thirteen. I thought it was unique and, to me at least, it emulates the essence of District Four pretty well,” I explain. “You don’t have to wear it if you think it’s silly.”

“No, it’s not silly, not at all,” he says, gently taking it from me and pulling it over his head. It rests against his bare chest, complimenting him nicely. “I love it. We’re going to be okay, Annie. In fifty years, you and I will still be sitting here, watching the sun set on the horizon over the ocean.”

I close my eyes for a moment, leaning into his arms, and let a single, salty tear escape from my eye as I imagine a future where that could be true.

**Author's Note:**

> Hint for tomorrow's (today's) ship:  
> a blond boy and a brunet boy


End file.
